


Questions; Conscience

by languageintostillair



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Ficlet, Post-Season/Series 07, Season/Series 08 Speculation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2019-02-07 02:05:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12831009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/languageintostillair/pseuds/languageintostillair
Summary: Jaime is asked why he has come North alone. He gives a short answer with a profound meaning.





	Questions; Conscience

“So, I have heard that your sister does not intend to honour the agreement.”

Jaime sighed. “No, she does not.”

All he had encountered since his arrival was question after question. Though he had expected far worse – and was still expecting it, for he had yet to come face to face with the Dragon Queen – the ceaseless queries were becoming more than just a mild irritant. At least this round, he would not have to explain the details of Cersei’s most recent betrayal.

At least this round,  _she_  was here.

She stood steady, as always; tall and silent in her armour.  _She steadied him._ It was an unassailable fact that had taken him far too long to fully comprehend.

More questions echoed. “And you came here alone, to fight with us? Are you no longer loyal to the Queen?”

“My conscience bade me come.”

He had answered instinctively. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a head shift, pale hair atop pale skin. She had guessed at his meaning, then.

“Your conscience? I never thought a Lannister would admit the existence of such a thing.”

“Not a thing,” he mumbled.

“What?”

Jaime ignored the question, choosing instead to glance towards her. She had heard him, he knew. She met his eye with a mixture of defiance and surprise and self-consciousness, and the effort that came with trying to suppress all three at once. The expression was so insistently  _Brienne_  (so definitively  _not Cersei_ ) that for a second, he forgot how to breathe. 

Jaime smiled – a subtle, unfamiliar thing on lips more used to carrying a smirk. It grew wider still when he saw she could not help but return it. 

He realised, suddenly, they had never shared such a tender moment as this. Not even the times when it was just the two of them, and Oathkeeper.  _It will always be yours._  Even then, there was a weight between them, an unspoken sorrow, something star-crossed. Though they might both perish in battle soon enough, he did not feel the depth of that sorrow now.

There had always been honesty between them, cruel though it might have been in the early days. They had seen each other naked at Harrenhal, an age ago; separate skins touched in the daze of steam and revelations. Yet, after all the time that had passed since their first meeting, it was only now –  _how many times had they shared a smile?_  – that he felt their affection for each other might just be laid bare.

He felt something akin to hope. He saw it was coloured a brilliant blue.

Louder, now, eyes still locked on hers – “My conscience is not a  _thing_.”

Jaime did not feel the need to explain further.


End file.
